


Everything will be okay

by Blink_Blue



Series: S4 Fics [8]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: Connor’s fingers tremble as they glide across the silk tie in his hands.Around the back, up the center, through the loop, cross left-no. Cross right?He huffs at his reflection in the mirror and pulls out the lame attempt at a proper knot. He groans internally, thinking about how his teenage boarding school self would be screaming at his inability to do a simple Windsor knot that he’d perfected so many years ago.A Coliver 4.08 missing scene.





	Everything will be okay

Connor’s fingers tremble as they glide across the silk tie in his hands.

_Around the back, up the center, through the loop, cross left-no. Cross right?_

He huffs at his reflection in the mirror and pulls out the lame attempt at a proper knot. He groans internally, thinking about how his teenage boarding school self would be screaming at his inability to do a simple Windsor knot that he’d perfected so many years ago.

He can’t fucking focus. Even through glazed eyes, he can see the mess that stares back at him through the mirror.

Not exactly looking ready to party. Ready for something else, maybe.

Connor winces at his reflection, and apparently, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Let me help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Oliver sighs heavily behind him. He’s annoyed and frustrated and had barely said a word since they left Wes’ apartment. Laurel’s apartment. Connor closes his eyes, already knowing he’s going to give in, despite his will to stay stubborn. He feels the fight drain from him. They have a long night ahead of them and he’s barely holding himself together. He doesn’t have the strength for  _this_ fight too.

“Connor, just… just let me help. Please.”

He slowly glances up, catching Oliver’s eyes in the mirror. His hands drop to his sides. Oliver slowly steps closer. He expects the other man to reach his arms around him, tying the necktie like he would on himself. But Oliver grabs him by the arm and gently spins him around until they’re face to face.

Connor doesn’t say a word as Oliver carefully ties a perfect Windsor knot. If he struggles with mirroring the motions, he doesn’t mention it. Maybe it’s easier than actually talking about what they’re avoiding talking about.

Oliver carefully tightens by pulling down on the wide end. He slides the knot up barely an inch before his hands tremor and stop. He swallows and starts straightening Connor’s collar instead.

“Does it hurt?” Oliver whispers.

He still feels every pulse in his throat. The raspiness of his voice hasn’t completely faded, but he thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. “It’s fine,” Connor mutters, fixing his gaze on a spot on Oliver’s chest.

Oliver’s hand shifts upwards. He runs his fingers lightly across the purple blossoming across his jugular. “I can’t believe he did that.”

Connor scoffs softly. “You’re hanging around killers. You really shouldn’t be so surprised, Ollie.”

Oliver shakes his head. “Yeah, but they’re your friends,” he insists.

“I don’t think you know what that means.”

Oliver looks up and hesitates. There’s so much he wants to say, and Connor reads him like an open book.

“I’m sorry.”

Connor gives him a wry half-smile. “I don’t care,” he say simply. “It doesn’t mean shit when you refuse to listen to me.”

“Connor-”

“We’re supposed to have each other’s backs and you can’t even be bothered to understand why this is a  _bad_ idea.”

“Of course I understand!”

“Then why the hell are you going along with it?” Connor smacks the other man’s hands away from him and pointedly ignores the hurt look Oliver gives him in return. “You are talking about ruining a person’s life, and don’t give me that bullshit about how framing him could actually  _help_ him in any way.”

Oliver straightens and purses his lips stubbornly. “This is happening. Either accept it or don’t. But we’re going to be late and-”

“Right,” Connor drawls as he cuts him off. “Wouldn’t want to be late to the party. We’ve got an asshole to frame and a dead guy to avenge. Who knows, maybe Laurel’s dad will even be there to kill us all!”

“Stop it,” Oliver says tiredly. “If you don’t want to go, then don’t. It’ll be better if you stay here-”

“Like hell I am,” Connor growls. He turns around and settles his gaze on himself in the mirror. He makes a show of fixing his tie that Oliver had already perfected for him. “How do I look?” He asks. “Good enough to risk life and limb for Laurel’s idiotic plan to avenge Wes?”

“ _You_  won’t be doing anything, remember?” Oliver corrects him.

Connor glares at Oliver’s reflection in the mirror. “Maybe I should kidnap you?” He suddenly says casually. The other man’s face scrunches up in confusion and Connor tilts his head to the side, putting on a veneer of steel. “What if I tied you up? And I don’t mean in the fun way,” he clarifies with a smirk. 

“What if I kept you here against your will, huh? I mean, I did have a hand when we did that to Rebecca… You remember her, right? Wes’ girlfriend? Wes’ dead girlfriend?” Connor lets out a dry laugh. “I doubt those idiots even know what a server looks like, let alone how to get into one. It’d blow a pretty big hole in your plan, wouldn’t it?”

Oliver visibly tenses. “That’s not funny, Connor.”

Connor sneers and breaks their painful eye contact. “You’re right. I hate myself enough already. I don’t need this on top of everything else.”

Oliver sighs behind him. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Connor turns around to meet his gaze, silently letting him know exactly what he thinks of that statement.

“Everything will be okay,” Oliver repeats, not sounding any more sure of himself.

“I guess we’ll see.” Connor shrugs his shoulders. “Hm. So much for normal and good, right?”

Oliver swallows. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again like a fish out of water. “Are we going to talk about it?” He whispers.

“Nope.” Connor walks right past him out of their bedroom. “Let’s go. Don’t want to be late. We’ve got a party to kill.”

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


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